we can only wonder

not sure if these are edited or not, but apparently this creepy-ass Bendy is in the hallway Boris hides in before walking out during the cutscene at the end of Chapter 2. Can any hackers confirm this? :P

Highlights of the truths laid down in this article include:

“B.A.P. is able to change and adjust to more than one dramatic style”

“Now B.A.P. has come back with ‘Wake Me Up,’ a title track song that is far more sociologically driven than any other song I have ever heard in K-pop. They are unafraid to perform about topics and issues that would be “unpopular” in K-pop but once again, it reaches out to a more international fan base as it touches their hearts and their minds.”

“So what happened that prevented B.A.P. from becoming big? I believe it is TS Entertainment.”

“In the case of B.A.P., TS Entertainment had ‘clauses that violate civil rights and go against what is outlined in the Fair Trade Commission.’ Not only that, the distribution of profit was unfair as it was stated that since their debut, B.A.P. made over $9 million, but only gave each member a measly $16,000. That is not even minimum wage!”

“Sadly, a whole year of no promotions, no music, no fan interaction hurt B.A.P. As for their reconciliation with TS Entertainment, K-pop fans were happy but cautious. It is possible that TS Entertainment would backstab B.A.P. and go back to their old ways that drove the wedge between musical artists and agency in the first place.”

“K-pop fans got to listen to some of the most entertaining and innovative music they have ever made..touching on subjects with a deeper meaning, we can only wonder how B.A.P. will continue to grow. For me, I will say just one to two more years. Give B.A.P. just that amount of time and they’ll be big if TS Entertainment doesn’t screw them over again.”

There’s only so much wonder we can bear, that’s why when you find any wonder whatsoever you dole it out in meager portions, and only then til it’s augmented and packaged and pumped through ten thousand pre-assigned filters, til it’s nothing more than a meaningless series of lights, while we ride day-in, day-out — going where? Powering what?

In honor of reaching 500 followers, I decided it was about time I made a post that shows that this blog is actually what it sounds like. This is going to be a long ride full of incoherent rambling, so hold on tight. Yes I am listening to Shall We Skate and Terra Incognita on repeat while writing this

Lets start from the beginning. The first time we see Phichit, we see him for only a few seconds, where he only says one line of dialogue, ¨Yuuri!¨, which was preceded by a giggle. We don’t see him again for the rest of the episode, or the next. Or the next. There is nothing that you can glean from this character at first glance.

But that was the moment I fell in love with the character that is Phichit Chulanont.

See, It wasn’t his first official appearance that made me fall in love with him. The reason I liked this character so much was because I understood he was close to Yuuri and cared about him. Now, for those of you who don’t know, I became invested in Yuri!!! on ICE because of Yuuri and the premise + figure skating. Not victuuri, although that was wonderful because!!! Representation!!! I was just glad there was a main character I, and many others, could deeply relate to. But this post isn’t about Yuuri. Its about Phichit. And because I could see he cared for Yuuri, I got interested.

So I watched the scene again to figure out what I could. And here is what I was able to come up with.

He lives in Thailand, but has just arrived home after being somewhere else, or is leaving. More likely the former. He is cheerful, and invested somewhat in social media. He is close friends with Yuuri, or at least acquainted, and is likely a figure skater.

I looked him up after that, and my love only grew.

Also, we had this picture in the ending

God I love him

The next time we see Phichit, we see him in a video call with Yuuri in episode 4. His first appearances are all very Yuuri-centered.

But boy did this scene deliver a BIG LOAD of information.

I had been right about quite a few things from my first guesses about Phichit. He just arrived back in Thailand and likes social media, as seen by the literal touchscreen gloves and multiple IG posts. He is also very close with Yuuri. VERY CLOSE. I damn near cried over how comfortable and happy Yuuri became when he was talking with Phichit. And how comfortable PHICHIT looked when he was talking to Yuuri.

They had clearly been friends for a long time, Yuuri even knew phrases in Phichits native language, and I have no doubts that Phichit knows phrases in Japanese.

This sort of familiarity and calm interaction is something we only really see Yuuri take part in when he is with his family, +the Nishigori’s, at least at the beginning of the series.

When Yuuri starts talking about composer girl, Phichit is able to immediately understand what Yuuri needs without even having to hear Yuuri say it. That is the kind of friendship some can only dream of.

We already know Phichit is a wonderful, reliable friend from less than a minute of interaction. Less than a minute. I counted. I have seen dozens of shows where it takes multiple WHOLE EPISODES to understand the relationship between two characters, but with Yuri on Ice it takes less than a minute. This is a result of good writing and good, rounded characters.

Which leads to my next topic of discussion.

Phichit is such a well-rounded character holy shit

There are no lingering doubts about Phichit’s character. There isn’t a scene where you are left wondering, “Why did Phichit do this” or “What is Phichit thinking” because we know, at least in my case. As long as you understand Phichit as a character you can understand the motivations behind his actions.

Episode 6 is a beautiful Phichitfest and I was having a good ol’ time.

Now, for reference, episode 6 is when I really got into Yuri on Ice as a show. Characters I didn’t really like were starting to have more appeal, like Viktor, and characters I loved got better, somehow.

Bonus points for fashion goddamn

HE CALLS CELESTINO CIAO CIAO. CIAO CIAO. HE IS SO PRECIOUS

His constant need to document everything on social media is also much appreciated.

also this

Captain of the #victuuri ship honestly same Phichit

So,as I’m watching this episode I’m just waiting and thinking

when do i get to see Phichit skate?? when??

I find out Phichit skates first and Im !!!!

then he skates.

AND BOY DOES HE EVER FUCKING SKATE

Phichit steps out onto that rink in his princely attire and I am gone then and there.

Shall We Skate? is such a masterpiece and I LOVE IT

You can say what you want about Phichit, but if you cant see how much Phichit adores skating through his performance than you clearly haven’t watched the series.

I have a record of crying every time I watch Phichit skate when I watched the episodes he was in for the first time. Every time. This one is no exception.

The fact that the audience is shown to get very caught up in Phichit’s performance made me so happy? These people, who are all there to support the more popular skaters, are getting caught up in the dance of a skater who hadn’t even been on their radar.

After his skate was done, he was still RIDICULOUSLY PROUD AND SUPPORTIVE OF HIS FELLOW SKATERS EVEN IF THEY SCORED HIGHER THAN HIM

JUST

LOOK AT HIM

HES SO PROUD!!

what a good friend fukc i love him

What I wouldn’t give to have a friend like Phichit

Ok.

Terra Incognita.

me too ciao ciao

This performance showed how much you can glean from a person while watching them skate. And yes. I cried.

Just.

His motivation for skating is so fucking clear.

He wants to make his country proud.

And he does.

The audience is rooting for Phichit, he gets the crowd hyped up and he delivers.

He worked his ass off for this performance and it pays off

He nails all of his components and scores higher than he ever has

He is so confident that hes won and he WINS

HE FUCKING WINS

HE BEATS YUURI AND CHRIS AND LEO ALL OF WHOM WERE MAJOR CONTENDERS FOR THE GRAND PRIX

HE WINS HIS FIRST GOLD MEDAL

AND AFTER THE ROSTELECOM CUP BECOMES THE FIRST THAI SKATER TO ADVANCE TO THE GRAND PRIX FINAL

HE??? IS SO GOOD

And that’s why it made me so mad when he lost the Grand Prix Final.

Sixth. Place.

I love the other skaters. I really do. But JJ did not deserve a bronze medal. He was way over scored and should have gotten last place. Phichit scored about as high as the previous years third place winner. JJ.

His Shall We Skate made me hella emotional and sob along with him at the end. He is SUCH A GOOD SKATER.

“Just by qualifying for the Grand Prix Finals, Phichit won. He may not have won a medal, but he achieved not only one of his dreams, skating “Shall We Skate” in a major competition, but also made history by becoming the first Thai skater to compete in the Grand Prix Finals. WE should all be extremely proud of him, and hopefully watch him continue to made his dreams reality in the next season!”

I stand by this statement fully and wholeheartedly. Yes, Phichit deserved to be placed higher, and yes, it was completely unfair. But lets be proud of what he did achieve, and appreciate him for the amazing character he is.

tldr; Phichit is a wonderful character and I love him. Thanks for 500 followers!

Chapter Masterlist AO3 LINKA/N: So here is the first chapter! I can’t believe so many of you were interested in this project- I really hope you like it! PS: click the title/musical notes for this chapter’s soundtrack.

Flowers fade The fruits of summer fade They have their seasons So do we But please promise me that sometimes You will think of me

The Opera Ghost really existed. He was not, as was long believed, a creature of the imagination of the artists, the superstition of the managers, or a product of the absurd and impressionable brains of the young ladies of the ballet, their mothers, the box-keepers, the cloak-room attendants or the concierge. Yes, he existed in flesh and blood, although he assumed the complete appearance of a real phantom; that is to say, of a spectral shade.

The Opera Velaris—the residence of the legendary ghost—was the most famous opera house in the mortal lands. Though it was hidden in a small city in the South of an island, people from all over the continent had heard of the magnificent opera and its infamous ghost. No one remembered when the opera house was built or how it came to be. It seemed, perhaps, as if it had appeared there one day by magic.

This would not be a total stretch of the imagination, as some people remembered a time, long before the Treaty, when the Fae and humans lived together on the island, and magic was everywhere. Most mortals, though, only remembered the bloody conflict that followed—when the Fae kept humans as slaves, and the humans hunted down Faes to kill them. Such people were thankful for the Treaty that separated the two races on different parts of the island, and ensured they would never have contact again.

Previous to the conflict, however, the Opera Velaris had been owned by a tremendously powerful and rich Fae Lord who loved music above all else. The popular legend among the cast of the Opera Velaris was that the ghost which haunted the theatre, and attended every performance religiously from his spot in box five, was none other than the ghost of the old Fae owner.

Many claimed to have seen the ghost. Some said the ghost had appeared to them in the shape of a gentleman in dress-clothes, who had suddenly stood before them in the passage, without their knowing where he came from. He seemed to have come straight through the wall. He stalked about the building, like a shadow, spoke to nobody and nobody dared to speak to him and vanished as soon as he was seen, no one knowing who or where. Others had far more impressive stories to tell—of a creature made of pure shadow, dark as night, terrible as death. And some older members of the opera company spoke nothing of the Phantom, and did not like to spread stories and sensationalise the tale, but if asked about the Opera Ghost, it was clear they had an unwavering conviction in its existence.

So while the Opera Ghost had become something of a running joke between all the members of the company—and every fall during rehearsals, or broken prop, or missing powder puff backstage was blamed on the Ghost—there were other strange occurrences at the Opera Velaris that truly couldn’t be blamed on anything other than the real Phantom of the Opera.

“You’ve proven enough to me, Ser Jorah… Now, if you please forgive me, I must ask you to leave. I am expecting someone.”

“… it’s Jon Snow, isn’t it?”

“You object?”

Before Jorah could say any more, Jon was compelled to finally knock on the door - dangerously on cue.

There was incoherent muttering inside the cabin, and then Jorah’s footsteps grew nearer to greet him at the door.

“Mormont.” Jon feigned surprise, but the friendly gesture was not returned in kind. Jorah coldly stared him down, gave his queen a last fleeting look, and briskly brushed past him.

Cautiously, Jon came into Dany’s cabin, closing the door behind him as gently as he could.

He stood rooted to the spot for a moment, nervously searching the room with his eyes and looking around at anything but at Dany.

“Why are you still standing back there?” She smiled curiously. “Come into the light.”

“You’ll have to forgive me, Your Grace.” Said Jon. “I’m afraid I’m still a little achy from the Eastwatch incident.”

His body groaned like an old man’s, but with every step he took closer to her, he found himself growing younger and younger again.

She stood leaning ever so slightly against the side of a table, hands neatly clasped, and wore dark blue robes and fur draped over her shoulders - it was unlike anything Jon had seen her wear before. The winter is truly here if even the mother of dragons must wrap herself in furs to keep warm. It beautifully complimented her snow-white locks of hair, he thought, but brushed the thought aside after he realized his smile grew a little too wide for comfort. Stop gawking at her like a complete idiot, he mentally scolded himself, disgusted by his awkwardness.

Meanwhile, Daenerys was quite obviously grazing her eyes up and down his body as he emerged from the shadows. “You look stronger than you did yesterday, my lord.” She sighed softly. “It appears you heal faster than most men, wouldn’t you say?”

“Well- yeah. I suppose I am. I mean, I do… I, uh…” Jon fumbled over his words, swallowing back something that was making it increasingly harder for him to breathe. “Listen, Dany - all this - this curtsying crap – what say you we move on from that already? You don’t have to call me ‘my lord’ anymore. I owe you my life. I think that makes us a little better acquainted by now.”

Now it was Dany’s turn to look away.

She focused on her fingers, fiddling them shyly, the thoughts in her mind having seemed to lose their graceful flow.

Dany. Only one man has ever called her that - a man whose very name haunts her like last meal’s bile. But when Jon said it… it was as though all those memories were never real afterall. She felt comforted – so much so that she wanted to hear this gruff, northern boy to say it to her again and again.

Please, say it again, she returned her eyes to his. But the pause between them was too unbearable for her to stretch it any longer.

“You’re right.” She smiled at him. “There are no strangers left between us.”

There was something in the glance they shared at that moment that reminded them both of dragons. Regal. Entrancing. Searching… And above all, mysteriously familiar. Jon cleared his throat.

“Remember at Dragonstone - after you came back from The Reach?” He began.

“What about it?” Daenerys frowned at him, unsure as to where this was going.

“I remember standing up there next to you, just as I am now… I remember watching you, watching the dragons.” He stepped a little closer to her as he said this, and his words grew quieter as the air left him. “And I felt like… All of my fears and responsibilities were somehow lifted from my shoulders, light as a feather. There was nothing else in the world that I wanted more than to…” Jon’s voice caught in his throat, afraid to end that sentence, afraid of her reaction.

“Jon? To what?”

Oh, fuck it. He gulped. “…To kiss you.”

He looked at her like a frozen deer would - wide-eyed and ready to run. Jon recalled her earlier conversation with Jorah – a man who knew her since the beginning, who has been through hell with her, has made her happy in a way Jon’s brooding could never hope to. A man who is always ready to lay down his life for her, the same man she turned away a moment ago. Jon could not bear the thought of going through the same dismissal, after only months of having met her. But winter is coming, and he had to take risks.

Daenerys couldn’t believe her ears. I summoned you to my cabin to discuss our plans against the Night King, not to hear another confession of love. She was almost angry with him. She wasted all this time trying to persuade him to bend the knee for her, but had he made it known to her earlier about his intentions, she would have accepted a marriage proposal without a second thought.

But she couldn’t be angry with him. She wanted to, but instead her heart was enveloped with his sweetness and it made her feel vulnerable, which frightened her. She felt her cheeks blush against her will, and could only hope that the dim glow of the lanterns could conceal it at least a little.

There he said that name again. Daenerys shook her head, unable to look at him. “No, don’t apologize.”

She thought for a moment how much of her feelings for him she kept repressed. Love both the venom and the antidote, she knew. If she had never come to feel anything for Jon, perhaps Viserion might still be roaming the skies with his brothers. But just like she dismissed the legend of the White Walkers, Dany was skeptical of the subtle efforts Jon had made to hint at his feelings towards her. She needed to see the Army of the Dead first to know they were real, and she needed Jon Snow to prove her he really did love her. She trusted him before, she wanted to trust him with this too. Everyone wants to fuck the queen, but how many would care for her naked heart?

She looked back up at Jon to read his expression, but his eyes were lost beneath the shadows of his brows. He sensed she didn’t believe how much this meant to him – how much she meant to him. I cannot leave this room the way Jorah did. He clenched his fists.

To his surprise, Daenerys made a move to approach him. Although she looked rather serious, her eyes were glistening with emotion.

What is she thinking? Jon wondered, parting his lips absent-mindedly. She was now so close to him he could almost feel the heat of her glowing, silver-gold image. She seemed like something out of a heavenly vision, her long hair was styled in a loose Westerosi fashion, and her gentle face was as perplexing and graceful as the moon.

Daenerys took his hand. He’s so cold… She took it in both of her hands, warming it up before lifting it to her face and holding it there. She closed her eyes for a moment and deeply inhaled the small of his wrist. He smells of leather and cold steel and pinewood, she smiled fondly.

Jon could only stare at her in disbelief, for his heart was so incredibly moved. As she pressed his hand closer to her cheek, intertwining her fingers with his, he realized just how warm she really was. She reminded him of summers at Winterfell so many years ago.

His thumb moved lightly over Dany’s lips, as she parted them to speak.

“Are you sure you want this?” Daenerys spoke so sadly, so quietly, Jon almost thought he imagined it, but her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I am a monster, Jon Snow. My children are monsters - and they’re all I could ever offer you… You deserve better than this - you deserve a future - a happy, peaceful future…”

“No, don’t you say that.” Jon shook his head, upset over the mere suggestion. He took her face in both hands, steadying her gaze into his. “Listen to me - I don’t care about that. I never have. And just because they call me the King in the North, it doesn’t make me any less of a bastard… I am a bastard, my love.” He sighed after he failed to stop himself from calling her that, but he continued, hoping she’d forgive him. “You know the dead are coming – you’ve seen them, and that means none of us can have the future we want… But you know what I believe?” He inched closer to her, closing any space that was left between them. “I believe that together, you and I, we can create history.”

Daenerys could only gaze at him in wonder, then at his lips as she watched him lean into her. And like a moth to a flame, his lips found hers, and she felt all of her fears and worries melt into nothing but pleasure. In fact, their mutual hunger was so fierce that it startled them, and they had to tear eachother’s lips apart just to gasp for air. Both believed the other was a dream, and that kissing too hard might frighten them awake.

And yet, they kissed again anyway, a little bolder this time. And kissed again, and bolder again, and with each kiss they grew surer and surer that this was indeed real and it was happening.

Daenerys Targaryen did not kiss the way Wildlings or teenage girls kiss, according to Jon’s experience. She did not bite him until he bled, nor leak her drool all over his beard. She did not stink of manure or sweat or blood. No… this creature was delicate, clean and perfumed with warm and sweet spices from lands of eternal summer. Her lips were softer than the ripest peaches he ever ate. And when his tongue pierced into the contents within her mouth, he found more juice than could ever quench his thirst.

But her mouth wasn’t enough.

She was an entire royal feast of exotic dishes, that much Jon Snow knew. He yearned to taste all of her - to burn her into himself until he no longer was himself.

But no sooner had his lips set forth to the nape of her neck that he had already lost his senses in its depths. He pulled the furs away in search of that warm, pulsing curve, suckled hard on her skin and then bit her rather sharply, playful as a wolf.

But the dragon, instead of growling in kind, gasped with pleasure, and buried her fingers in his lush, black hair.

Jon couldn’t believe his ears and snapped out of it, looking back at her to make sure he didn’t just imagine it.

Dany, however, was equally as senseless now, and wouldn’t stand for pointless pauses like these. She tugged at his hair, and kissed him with a hunger that pushed him back. Surprised and intoxicated by her sudden show of force on him, he reacted by pushing her right back and then seated her up on the table. He squeezed her even harder against his body, and moved to kiss her neck again, where her perfumes plunged him even deeper into what was already a sensuous overload.

She felt his hand wrap around her neck and direct her back into his dark gaze - a gaze that was now burning with a strange, hypnotic defiance.

“You will be mine Daenerys Targaryen - even if your dragons burn me to a crisp.”

Daenerys felt something else burn between her legs, and her breath was heavy and irregular between their hungry kisses, and her voice was rendered delicate as gossamer. “I am all yours Jon Snow…” She promised.

Perhaps Dany had wanted to add something more, but the thought evaporated when she felt Jon’s cold hands sliding up her thighs, lifting the fabric of her dress along.

Why does his touch make me tremble like this? She clung to him helplessly as they kissed.

Dany’s own hands restlessly moved about him – squeezing his arms, pulling his hair, caressing his face, his neck, his back… She yearned to feel his naked skin - to dig her nails and teeth in him – to prove that she is a dragon not just in name.

But Jon Snow was not like the others. Not like her late Khal Drogo, not like Daario Naharis. He was nothing like the self-assured slave girl who taught her the ways of seduction, and he sure as hell was not like her critical, psychotic brother had been.

She has never made love like this.

Ever since she learned how to mountDrogo, she has never been the submissive one - she was always the one in control with all of her partners. She didn’t know any other way, and yet here she was - ghostly and drunk with the desire to be used in any which way to please Jon Snow.

But her pride protested, and old habits nudged her to take control.

She was torn between wanting to untie Jon’s breeches or his shirt.

She wanted to see those scars of his up close - she wanted to kiss them all - to feel the bumps and the ridges, the hills and the valleys of his lean chest.

But her old self would have only cared for the cock in her grip, at her mercy, where she was comfortable and powerful and knew what to do. Where she could set out to prove again and again that she was not a little girl, that not even a mighty Khal could be above her.

She had to make the decision and fast - but she couldn’t do it. She was utterly disarmed when underneath her dress she felt Jon’s hands cup around her buttocks and squeeze her so deliciously, that she couldn’t help but curve her back like a cat stretching in the sun.

“Dany…” Jon pulled away nervously. “The scars… ”

“Show them to me.” Dany almost begged him.

Jon took a deep breath before he withdrew his hands away from her to undo the buttons of his black shirt. Dany could only watch in anticipation as he parted his shirt to reveal his chest. Wordlessly, she moved her hands over to inspect the scars up close. Endless questions began swirling in her head.

“Who..?” Her voice trembled with pain and shock, as if she could still see the blood.

“Doesn’t matter now.” Jon assured her, gently stroking her hair.

The small, affectionate pause they shared was enough to encourage Daenerys to act; she seized his shirt and made him take it off entirely. Hungrily, her hands climbed up his strong, veiny arms and he stroke her thighs again, and her desire for him became unbearable.

The ship began swaying more violently, but neither of them were really aware of it until things started falling and shattering to the floor. The lanterns on the ceiling swung wildly, the ship groaned, but that didn’t stop the bastard from tearing off the queen’s dress.

There were men yelling and running around somewhere on the deck, but that didn’t frighten the Southern Invader from luring the Northern Fool to her bed, which she knew was nailed into the floor.

The sky flashed and rumbled outside the small windows, but Jon Snow has seen and heard it all before, but not what he’d see between the legs of Daenerys Targaryen, or what sound she would make if he were to enter in.

The wind howled, flapped the sails and banged the doors, but Dany only heard his voice, his breath, his force banging against her body.

The sea raged and sprayed and licked the boat’s paint until it was raw. But it wasn’t the rain the storm brought down that night – it was snow.

This was written by the lovely @aeliyen and subbmited here. Y’all are free to submit, just like this gorgerous piece right here. Enjoy!

We couldn’t end a year full of wonderful creations without a Holiday Challenge. With the arrival of Winter, different celebrations rise around the world, and we can only wonder: how do you imagine Will and Hannibal celebrating these days? Enjoying a nice meal in front of a beautiful fire, or perhaps dripping blood on the white snow? How about your favorite rarepairs, do they celebrate any holiday, or merely enjoy a cup of hot chocolate in front of a fireplace?

From December 17th to 24th, create anything related to this season of the year, and use the hashtag #WinterMurderland to participate.

It can be any type of submission, and it doesn’t have to be Hannigram: all rarepairs, characters and anything related to the fandom are invited to the last challenge of 2017!

“…So the person fell in love, but their loved one died and that drove them mad, so they started seeking a way to bring the loved person back
… Or was it that they were already mad when they fell in love and it only got worse in the advent of death? Oh well, wharever. The thing is, that person found a way of stretching their time. And the problem is: the price of something like this is high, so they turned to some problematic stuff to keep on going”

Trixx shrugged and went back to eating before Tikki added:

“Well, considering the whispers about a very powerful blessing, I wouldn’t be surprised if any of these were the truth. Too much power is problematic.”

Mari would sigh. Tikki had a point, but it was still too absurd to believe.

“What kind of spirit would have such extreme power, though?” Alya would be quick to ask. She always liked to hear the stories the spirits had to say, even if she wouldn’t always believe them.

“Well it is, after all, a legend. So we can only wonder… In any case, living forever on such circumstances seems like a very lonely existence.”

Show us something real and free and beautiful. You couldn’t, yeah? It’d break us. We’re too numb for it. I might as well choke. It’s only so much wonder we can bear. When you find any wonder whatsoever, you dole it out in meager portions.

we don’t see how the bits and pieces of our circumstances can come together. we don’t see the future, we can only wonder at what’s in front of us. don’t be afraid. we have a God who’s sovereign and who sees the big picture. and so when He says trust, trust. place your faith in the One who is wise and kind. He who knows each star by name, who takes care of every thing in this universe, will certainly not forget His own children. your confidence in Him will never be put to shame.